Wednesday, November 7, 2012

Fly Encounters


The church was a polling place yesterday. This means nothing to me (since I don't vote here), except that it meant the church doors near my office were wide open all day. Why does that matter?

There are currently five flies in my office.

Did you hear me?


I can't handle it*.

*"It" may be defined as:
The swooping.
The diving.
The buzzing.
The puke they supposedly distribute with each landing.
The contaminated snacks.
The taunting glares they give me with their million eyes.
The way they swiftly wiggle their front legs.

I am not in the habit of asking "why" questions, but this is forcing me to make an exception.

Why, God? Why did you make these insects? What do they do for the earth? Why did you send them to my office?

If God were to answer via email, I think it may have a heading like this:

To: erin
Subject: Re: That patience you prayed about


p.s. clearly God would use aol as his email provider. He's had email since the dial-up days. The only other option would be the Yahoo variant "Yahweh," as illustrated in Bruce Almighty.

p.p.s. If your office is infested with flies, you may think about putting strips of sticky-side-up masking tape all over your desk and computer to trap the pests. This is a crafty thought, but it will not work and the flies will laugh at you as they dance on your snares.

Wednesday, October 10, 2012

Voicemail Encounters

I have decided on a new cell phone policy:

If you call me, and I don't answer or miss your call, it would be really helpful if you would wait about 2 minutes before placing another call.

Two main reasons this should be the law:
1. Most of the time when I don't answer - and it's a reasonable hour - it's because I didn't get to my phone in time. I'm going to try and call you right back. If I get your voicemail, a possibly endless game of phone tag will begin.
2. If you try to call me more than once in five minutes, I will think there is an emergency (or maybe our favorite song is on the radio). If I think there is an emergency, I will be trying to call you. If we call each other at the same time multiple times in a row, panic will ensue. If panic ensues, my imagination will start going down the list of possible terrible things you could be calling about. If my brain goes down that road, there's no telling where it will end. When we finally do connect via magical-portable-calling devices, and you tell me you just wanted to remind me there is a new episode of Modern Family on tonight, I will be furious with you. Why? Well because you made me panic and think you were in distress. Also, because I already know about the new Mod Fam episode. How do I know? Because I love the show. Also, because Eric Stonestreet and I are friends and we tailgate together. Duh. See:

Your adherence to this new policy/law is greatly appreciated.

Please and thank you.

Monday, August 20, 2012

Moanday Encounters

Things I have learned/realized today:

1. Someone left a letter out when they were spelling "Monday." Clearly it should be called "moan-day" instead. Anyone who cares to argue with me on this should wait until tomorrow.

2. I have on my navy blue watch today. I've had it for two years and worn it about 3 times a week. I just now realized the only numbers that are missing are 2, 6 and 10. If any teenage drivers have this watch the "10 and 2" rule will be super confusing for them.

3. There are too many drugs that start with a Z sound.

4. There is a big difference between telling someone you took a Zyrtec or Zantac and accidentally telling them you took Xanex.

5. People are either freakishly good or absolutely terrible at hiding their true emotions with facial expressions.

6. If you are talking to someone who is bad at controlling facial expressions, and you get your prescription drugs confused AND you tell them you took two Xanex and it didn't help you at all, you will feel judged. Very, very judged.

Happy Moanday, reader.


Tuesday, August 7, 2012

Hateful Encounters

Wow. Haven't posted since April? I need to send myself to blogging summer school next year.

So sorry to go MIA on you, reader (mostly Peyton). I shall try and do better (said every person who ever stunk at blogging).

I posted quite a while ago about my disdain for the use of the word favorite. If you're using it correctly, you only get one. We butcher it all the time. Let me see if I can find it... ah ha, here it is.

Well today, let's discuss the haters.

The Plain White T's gave us all a mother-like lecture with their lyrics, "hate is a strong word, but I really really really don't like you." Much like your favorites, it's probably also best not to hate everything. I mean, people today hate so much stuff! People, places, food, movies, colors, cars, politics, anything their brother says... Don't get me wrong, if the color orange inspires deep emotional disdain and you can't stand to look at it, that's hate. You go ahead and hate orange. But probably most of us just really prefer a different color - no hate, just preference.

I have this wonderful dear friend who once literally saved my life, and she has this great game: The Hate Game. Basically you just say you hate things no one would ever hate. It's fabulous and hilarious. And it makes me think about how stupid I sound when I complain about small things. Here are some examples of hate game possibilities:

- You know what I hate? Chairs. Chairs are dumb. They are everywhere. And they have legs. So annoying.
- I really hate buttons. Buttons are lame. You have to like, press them all the time. Ugh.
- I hate cups. Cups are the worst. They always spill things and you have to hold them. Cups are gross.
- Do you know what I hate? Pillows. They take up so much room. Everyone has 50 of them in their house. I hate pillows.

Get it? When in the right mood, this game can turn your day around.

So, what do you hate?

Thursday, April 19, 2012

Cart Encounters

I went to the store the other day and the most amazing thing happened: I had the perfect shopping cart.

This is not a joke.

It was amazing.

It was clean. All of its wheels turned - without squeaking, I might add. And I didn't have to throw my entire body weight behind it to turn up and down the aisles. It was as though I was the first person in the world to ever use it.

Such a thing has never happened to me before. It was glorious and, I fear, a once-in-a-lifetime occurrence.

Well done, perfect cart. Well done.

Wednesday, March 28, 2012

Wrong Number Encounters

The other day a woman named "Gma Shelley" kept texting me pictures of a newborn baby. I mean, like a NEWborn. We are talking still slimy, and red and screaming.

Why do you care? You don't.

Why do I care? I don't. Because I'm not Kevin. And I don't know Gma or the naked child in the photos she kept sending.

I told her she had the wrong number.

She asked if I was Kevin.

I said no.

She said, "Oh sry lol."

Three minutes later: more baby pics.

I said, "Still not Kevin."

Reasons this disturbs me:
1. Who texts a number for their family member without already having it saved to their contacts?
2. What kind of grandma uses "Gma" and "sry lol?"
3. Who continues texting after they've been told they have the wrong number?
4. It's not nice to make someone frantically search their mental rolodex of pregnant friends to try and figure out who's child they are failing to celebrate.

Wednesday, February 29, 2012

Lenten Encounters

What's the deal with all advertisers lying during lent?

They all have commercials advertising their "fish" products, and I'm pretty sure their pants are on fire. Majorly.

Take Wendy's, for example. That hot and spicy redhead is lying through her teeth. Her fish sandwich commercial begins, "It's that time of year again. Time for people to rush to Wendy's for their favorite fish sandwich!"


Who thinks, "Wow. It's February! I have to hurry! I get to go to Wendy's and eat fish!"?

I'll tell you who thinks that: nobody. Nobody thinks that.

Also, nobody thinks that "the best fish can be found at Arby's." NO BODY.

I know you're supposed to be good all year long, but I find lying to make a Lenten profit especially disturbing.

Tuesday, February 7, 2012

Airplane Encounters

I had to leave town for a weekend conference recently. The last time I traveled to said conference I got several good blog topics out of my journey. (Like this one and this one.)

Here are some things I thought of during my trek this time:

- They should limit the kinds of odiferous foods you can bring onto airplanes. Especially if it's a small airplane. The lady next to me on one of my flights was enjoying a wonderful sandwich from Subway but it was loaded with jalapeno peppers. I mean, really loaded. Not cool. Literally. My nostrils were burning.

- This whole thing where you have to pay money to check a bag has got to go. End of story.

- Also, the airlines have these new signs slash posters where they say "enjoy a drink on us!" and then they list all the drinks you can have while on your flight. How generous! You mean I can pay you almost $500 for a ticket, $50 to check my bag, and surrender my dignity in one of those creepy scanner things and you'll give me half a Coke?? I can't get over your giving spirit!
I'm not old. Or at least not THAT old, but I can remember the days when if you bought a ticket you could check TWO bags FREE, and you got a meal on every flight. Like a real meal. Served with actual metal utensils. CRAZY.

- I think all airport toilets should have those nifty automatic seat covers like they have in Chicago. It should be a standard requirement. I will add that to my list of goals for a future political campaign. (By the way, it just occurred to me that my award winning, undefeated campaign slogan will no longer work. "Vote for the Learned one," took me to the highest reaches of high school government. With my new last name, it no longer packs a punch. Heavy sigh. Oh well, Ghata get used to it.)

- Lastly, I wonder what they do with all the liquids and gels they confiscate from passengers at security. If it's more than 3 oz., they will take it from you. They must have piles of shampoo, deodorant, toothpaste and hair gel somewhere. I hope it's being put to good use. When I was little I used to think there were little elves who sorted the luggage and put in on the right plane and then back on the right conveyer belt. Maybe the elves get to use the products... One can only hope.

Wednesday, January 18, 2012

Unique Encounters

Sometimes it's good to feel unique. Sometimes it's not.

Here's a few places/times it's nice to feel unique/different/special:
- When you're an artist at an art show. Your works stands out as something different, people notice you and you make more money.
- When you have a million siblings and there's something that you do that no one else does. You don't have to share, which is always fun whether you want to admit it or not.
- When you're applying for college scholarships or trying to get into med school or law school or something. You have to stand out from the crowd.
- When you're trying to get a job. Same song, second verse.
- If you're Waldo and the whole point of your existence is your ability to be found in large crowds of people, animals or barbarians.

Here's some places/times you DON'T want to feel unique/different/special:
- High school. I don't care what people say. No one wants to truly stick out in high school. The trend is to blend.
- At the doctor's office. The words "I've never seen anything like this," are not comforting in the least.
- Ditto for the dentist.
- The witness protection program. Duh.
- And you certainly don't want to feel unique at the Apple store when you're taking in your computer for repair. "Take a look at this!" is not something you want to hear one Genius yell to another.

Heavy sigh...